


Ineffable Husbands vs Fiber Arts

by onlywaterintheverse



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fiber Arts, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Knitting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 11:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlywaterintheverse/pseuds/onlywaterintheverse
Summary: Co-written anonymously. This story happened because one of us is making a scarf for a Crowley costume and that made us wonder, what if these two dweebs tried knitting? And weaving? And needlepoint?





	Ineffable Husbands vs Fiber Arts

It’s not that Crowley found it to be beneath him; he’d come to love many of the ways humans chose to entertain themselves. It’s just that this one in particular made _no sense_! Clothes, bedding, bags...these things could all be made quickly and perfectly by machine. So yes, he was just a little bit surprised and a lot annoyed when he entered the book shop one evening and found his boyfriend at his desk holding glorified pointy sticks in each hand, gazing intently at a pattern book with an enormous ball of grey yarn resting in his lap.

“Oh no no no no angel not knitting WHY KNITTING?”

Aziraphale straightened up in his chair, twisting his face into something halfway between a frown and the face puppies make when their food is taken away.

“What’s wrong with knitting? I find it quite relaxing! And seeing as I’m retired now I finally have time to learn it properly.”

“There’s a dozen shops in SoHo alone selling better than you’ll ever be able to make and it takes so long. You know knitting was one of ours right? It’s not supposed to be pleasurable.”

“Well then, perhaps your former head office failed on this one. Feel how soft this is; it’s lovely!”

Crowley begrudgingly poked the yarn with his fingertips. Fine, yes, the yarn was soft.

“As long as you’re having ‘fun’.” On the word fun Crowley made the obnoxious finger quote gesture. Aziraphale pointedly ignored it, turning his eyes once again on the pattern. “So what do you think for dinner Angel? The sushi place that serves proper sake could suddenly have an open table.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t possibly leave this right now. This part of the pattern is rather intricate and if I lose my place it’ll be ruined!” Crowley lowered his dark glasses to the end of his nose revealing what could only be described as a death glare “You have got to be kidding. You’re choosing this over sushi?”

“Sushi will still be there once I’m done.” Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled and his mouth curled up in a grin “Why don’t you join me? I have more needles and yarn and I’m sure you could find some instructions that are simple enough for a beginner on that fancy phone of yours.”

It seemed like the sort of statement that should be a joke but the demon knew that Aziraphale was completely serious. He was not leaving the shop until he was finished with whatever this project was and he thought it would be absolutely fantastic if they could spend the evening knitting together. Almost against his own will Crowley found himself taking a seat and picking up a spare pair of knitting needles, grumbling something under his breath about how love was overrated and made you do stupid things. “Fine angel but we’re opening that 60 year old Macallan TONIGHT.” (1)

Once the glasses had been filled and the basic knitting tutorial located, the celestial odd couple (2) settled into a companionable silence. Crowley managed to cast on ten stitches and knit a couple of rows of something called garter stitch; a simple stitch with a pleasingly snakey name. He was almost beginning to enjoy himself when

*clink*

*thunk*

“AAAARRRGGGHH!”

The angel started in his chair and lifted his eyes “I’m sure that shout wasn’t necessary darling. What’s the trouble?” Crowley gestured frantically at the floor “The bloody needle fell out half way through a row!”

“Oh honestly let me just…” Aziraphale hurriedly finished his current row and jumped up to grab the misbehaving needle and a crochet hook. Slowly he guided his reluctant crafting companion through getting the work back on the needle. 

“Now do try to hold on more firmly dear so it doesn’t happen again!”

“A firm grip is more your department Angel,” Crowley said, accompanied by a lewd gesture. Aziraphale’s face went from zero to neon pink in seconds.

“Oh honestly, must you right now?”

“Yes. Always.”

The demon took a large swig of his drink, slumped into his chair and returned to clumsily maneuvering the needles and yarn. Perhaps another half hour passed peacefully.

“How are there eleven stitches?? How!? There were ten and now there are eleven! Are they breeding??”

“You probably just picked up an extra stitch from somewhere. You can fix it in the next row by knitting two at the same time.” 

“Pickedupanextrastitchmyassillpickupyourstitch” Crowley sneered and shot back the rest of his drink.

“NOW THERE ARE ONLY NINE! Angel this is pointless! We could miracle these done and be having sushi right now!”

“Dearest, you’re welcome to go to the restaurant without me if this isn’t for you but I really do need to get this section done tonight. Anathema’s birthday is next week and I want to have this ready for her. And miracling it misses the entire point!” Of course it was a gift because of _course_ Aziraphale would spend hours painstakingly creating something with his own hands for someone else to enjoy. For a moment Crowley felt just a bit bad about being selfish. His angel knew there was no way he’d ever go to dinner alone; they hadn’t spent an evening apart since Armagedidn’t. “You win, I’ll keep going just please help me figure out what happened to that hell forsaken stitch.” 

***

Two hours later Crowley was holding the end of an unevenly stitched narrow light grey scarf. Aziraphale applauded giddily

“Darling, you’ve made your first scarf! The next one will be even easier!”

“Next one? Oh no angel, this is never happening again.” Crowley threw the scrap of fabric around his neck. “If we hurry we can still grab dinner before they close.”

“You’re wearing that OUT?”

“Angel, this bloody thing took me three hours and my fingers are numb. I’m never taking it off again.” (3)

\----------

(1) The most expensive bottle of scotch ever sold at auction was a 60 year old Macallan  
(2) We totally stole this descriptor from David Tennant.  
(3) We realize this doesn’t fit the canon timeline because he had the scarf before the antichrist was born and this is happening post apocanope. Plot bunnies care not for timelines.


End file.
